


Like a Dog in My Lap

by madrastic



Category: The Epic of Gilgamesh
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, First Time, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, references to obscure sumerian prayers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-23 00:44:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23003038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madrastic/pseuds/madrastic
Summary: Sometimes, the wild man that punches you in the face is really looking kinda cute tho
Relationships: Enkidu/Gilgamesh (Mesopotamian Mythology)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 46





	Like a Dog in My Lap

**Author's Note:**

> there wasn't enough smut in this tag, i did my own personal translation of the epic of gilgamesh so if it feels a bit wonky that's why

He was deep in the woods when he saw him again, resting on a bed of moss, long, ragged red skirt flaring out across the green, bare-chested. His bright eyes were on Gilgamesh, watching his every move, a mischievous twinkle belying curiosity. A bruise or two dotted their skin, blooming like poisonous flowers on the forest floor.

“Hello, my Lord.” He smiled around the words, spoken in the accent of the Gods.

Gilgamesh was going to die if he never heard that accent again. “Hello, Clay Child.”

He smiled at that too. He smiled a lot, sharp white fangs and full red lips, perfect lips, perfect face, perfect—No. Gilgamesh was _not_ going to think that. Thinking like that would get him into all manner of trouble. Thinking like that would be dangerous, and impossible, and unseemly, and, _oh he should leave now before those clever eyes as red as the purest clay from the river got another idea and—_

“It seems that we are at an impasse.” He gathered his dark hair (like fertile soil after a rainstorm, the fields bearing a bounty, petrichor and seeds) over his shoulder, braiding it into some semblance of order at the base of one curving, deep-brown horn. “Why are you here, Lord Gilgamesh?”

Gilgamesh needed to stop looking at his flawless hands and flawless hair and transfixing eyes before he was pinned through the middle like a sword through a lion. “I hoped you might tell me your name.” A weak counter.

He laughed and it sounded like the stars had come down to make their home inside his throat. “I already have, my Lord.”

“Then I ask of you: what is you name?” His body took a step forward without his say so, feet sinking into the soft moss.

“Enkidu.” He uncrossed his legs, stretching out. “I am Enkidu, but you may call me all manner of things.”

His grin was as sly as a fox’s as Gilgamesh knelt between his legs, face just inches away. “I would like to lay atop your thighs like a dog.”

“Then consider me your bull.” Enkidu breathed up, eyes pools of black, encircled by a ring of burning clay.

Gilgamesh’s mouth was on Enkidu’s before he could think to protest. Not that Enkidu did, either. He kissed back, wrapping his hands around the nape of his Lord’s neck and pulling him closer, pulling him on top of him. Gods above, he was strong, celestial form hiding a strength that Gilgamesh was more than happy to indulge. His own hands knotted through their hair, fingers wrapping around the base of one horn to pull the wild man further, as if that would help him withstand this.

Enkidu _moaned_. Softly, into Gilgamesh’s open mouth, but it was a definite moan, draining Gilgamesh’s mind of all sense and sending all of the heat building in his body flooding down to pool in the pit of his stomach. Nothing mattered, not the possibility that they were discovered, not the scandal this would bring down on the kingdom, nothing. Enkidu, despite everything, was _his_ tonight.

“If I knew,” Lips drew away from his to speak in that gorgeous, panting voice, “that punching you in the face would have made you so hard,” he snaked his hand around the back of Gilgamesh’s thigh, pulling the man closer, “then I would have done it so much sooner.”

Gilgamesh paused in planting kisses down the column of Enkidu’s neck. “And I had known,” one of his thighs met hardness between Enkidu’s legs, “that the wild thing in the woods,” he _pressed_ and the way that Enkidu gasped and bit his lip was all the reward anyone ever needed, “was so perfect,” inching his hand up his leg, Gilgamesh moved Enkidu’s skirt aside, rubbing little circles on his inner thigh, “I would have ceded so much sooner.”

As he rutted against his leg with stuttering hips, a blush crept into Enkidu’s face. “I wish you did. Dogs are not known for their patience.”

That was all Gilgamesh needed to pull Enkidu into his lap, his own skirt falling to the ground, watchful for those sharp horns so near his face. The smaller man let his head drop onto Gilgamesh’s shoulder breathing hard. Enkidu’s hands scrabbled for purchase on his back as he ground down onto him. Cupping his head, Gilgamesh reached his hand between them.

“Wait.”

Gilgamesh paused. He wanted him. He wanted him badly. He paused nonetheless. “Are you alright?”

His voice creaked on his tongue as Enkidu spoke. “I am new to this. All of this.”

“Then do you trust me?”

It was the moment Enkidu took to think that made Gilgamesh’s blood fill with a river of cold. “I don’t know why, but I do.” His mouth split in a smile, and it took all of Gilgamesh’s will not to give him everything he ever wanted.

“Let me do this for you.”

Wrapping a hand around Enkidu’s hardening cock, he pumped his hand slowly, relishing in the hesitant, surprised noises spilling out of Enkidu. Little kisses split against his throat split Enkidu’s attention. Gilgamesh sped up, reveling the way the wild man didn’t know what was most important, reacting to everything with the same adoring gasps and moans.

His own forgotten member slowly dribbled precome onto Enkidu’s leg, and, taking the initiative, Gilgamesh ground down on it, feeling sparks trace up his spine. Mouthing at Enkidu’s neck, he tasted sweat and skin and soil and the remnants of plants. Gilgamesh tasted the divine, the river clay that made up the tablets of the heavens baked under the heat of the sun.

“More.” Demanded the creature in his arms, the creature whose moans were growing more desperate, whines more begging, whimpers more pleasing.

Of course, Gilgamesh obliged, moving faster, harder, swiping his thumb over the slit of Enkidu’s dick. Pressing their bodies closer together, he reveled in the way Enkidu responded against him, in the way his voice sounded like cracking clay. As he nibbled on Enkidu’s neck, passing his tongue over the pulse point, Gilgamesh let his groans be muffled.

Enkidu lost control first, digging his nails into Gilgamesh’s back so hard he was sure the wild man had drawn blood. He shook and made all sorts of broken noises as he spilled over Gilgamesh’s hand, as Gilgamesh turned his attention to himself, speeding up his rutting and fisting his own cock, not bothering with teasing or taunting. He came over Enkidu’s thigh, out of breath. It was his weight that pushed the two of them over, Enkidu’s breath leaving in a huffed exhalation as Gilgamesh’s body compressed his chest.

They lay like that for a while, Enkidu panting, trying to fill his head with thoughts. It was Gilgamesh that rose first, craving a bath and some water. As he drank from his waterskin, he wiped his hand on the moss and took stock of his partner’s distant eyes and trembling limbs.

“Are you alright?” He asked, despite himself.

Those perfect eyes blinked. “Say again?”

“I asked if you were alright.”

Clumsily, he pulled himself into a seated position. “I think so.”

“Was this your first?” A twinge of guilt made its way into Gilgamesh’s gut. This wasn’t a virgin girl he was entitled to, this was a man sent down by the gods, a creature as divine as he was. A creature he had just defiled.

“With a man, it was.”

His eyes roved over wild, tangled hair. There would be no girl picking up her clothes and straightening her jewelry as she picked her way out of his room, returning to her husband. “How did you find it, then?”

Enkidu fixed him with his gaze, and Gilgamesh’s stomach did flips. It was all he could do to smile at him, at the predatory gaze that flickered across his excited eyes. “Care to do it again?”

That was all he needed. Reaching up to grab a horn, Gilgamesh pulled the man back to him to abuse his lips some more. The man in his lap responded, and Gilgamesh would have given him his kingdom if it would have made him happy.

“Come to the palace with me.” The offer was out of his mouth before he could think.

Enkidu drew back, arms looped around the nape of Gilgamesh’s neck. “Stop being cruel, and I will.”

“I am not cruel.”

“Then no, you cannot have me.” He shifted, rising off of Gilgamesh.

The king’s heart panged so painfully he thought he might die. “Fine. Alright. I will. Please, stay.”

With a smile that could eat the sun, Enkidu knelt before Gilgamesh. “Then consider me like a dog, Ha'iru.”

“Hirtu.” Gilgamesh corrected. “Hirtu.”

**Author's Note:**

> dogs and bulls were seen as very sexy animals in mesopotamia (hmu if you want academic sources)  
> ha'iru -- what a lower ranking person would call their higher ranking spouse, "lord"  
> hirtu -- what a marriage of equals calls each other


End file.
